


A Novel Approach

by thisbluespirit



Category: Department S & Jason King
Genre: Community: 100fandoms, Humor, Mark Caine does it again, Multi, Noodle Incidents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23932351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisbluespirit/pseuds/thisbluespirit
Summary: Jason’s latest book causes  a stir in the office.
Relationships: Annabelle Hurst/Jason King/Stewart Sullivan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5
Collections: The 100 Multifandom Challenge





	A Novel Approach

**Author's Note:**

> I believe I originally tried to write this for a Yuletide prompt in NYR 2017, but when I found it again I couldn't find the letter or remember whether or not I had not typed it up because it didn't really fit the request, so I didn't think I'd better gift it. But it was at least inspired by the person who requested it (who also piqued my interest enough to pick up the show with their letter) - thanks! 
> 
> Also for 100fandoms prompt #16 dishonour.

“Have you seen the latest Mark Caine?”

Annabelle took a while to register the question, busy analysing the latest results from Auntie. She eventually dragged herself out of the maze of facts and figures and looked up at Stewart as he threw a grey paperback down on the desk, right on top of all her print-outs.

“Stewart,” she said, in vague annoyance and picked the book up. She paused and frowned at it. “I thought this wasn’t due out till tomorrow? I’d no idea you were such a dedicated fan.”

Stewart folded his arms. “Complimentary copy,” he said. “Got it in the mail this morning, courtesy of the author himself. Thought you’d have got one, too.”

“Yes, well,” said Annabelle, putting the book down away from her work, “perhaps I would have done if I’d been home any time in the last forty-eight hours, but you asked me to feed Auntie half the London Phone Book to analyse. I’ve been up all night dealing with the ensuing attack of indigestion.”

Stewart perched on the edge of the desk and leant over to kiss her cheek. “Sorry for the inconvenience. Any results?”

“Smith is still the most common surname by a significant margin,” said Annabelle and then put her hand to her head and slumped back in the chair. “The rest is just gibberish, I’m afraid.” She reached out for the Mark Caine novel. “As is this, I imagine.”

“Annabelle! Don’t let the author hear you.” Stewart snatched back the book and then scowled at it. “Actually, scratch that. Let him, and then some. Do you know what he’s done? He’s worked in the Hutchinson Lab case.”

“Well, that’s hardly unusual. What has got into you?”

Stewart tapped her on the head with the book. “That’s not the kind of phrasing I want to think about right now. Listen.” He flicked through the pages and then cleared his throat. “ _Mark turned, only to find that the door was locked. He was trapped in the opulent bedroom with his erstwhile allies._ ”

“ _Erstwhile allies?_ ” said Annabelle, wrinkling her nose. “I’m really not sure –”

Stewart raised his eyebrow. “I don’t have to continue, do I?”

“Oh!” said Annabelle, the significance finally dawning through the fog of tiredness. She sat up. “The _Hutchinson_ lab case – the one with that prototype drug that –” She pulled herself up, and tried to read over Stewart’s shoulder while he kept edging the book away from her.

Annabelle pursed her lips. “But we all agreed never to mention that again!”

“So we did,” Stewart returned, “but we overlooked the fact that we said nothing about immortalising it in fiction.” Stewart’s gaze was drawn back to the page. He flushed and adjusted his tie.

Annabelle used the moment to swipe the book out of his hands, scanning down the page. She raised both her eyebrows. “Not that I can remember much about the incident, but I’m quite sure I never did _that_.”

“Good morning, children,” said a cheery voice from the doorway, catching their attention before making his entrance. “Ah, I see you got my little present.”

“Yes,” Stewart returned, “and we’re not amused.”

“ _Not_ amused?” Jason’s face fell. “You mean you didn’t like it?”

Annabelle and Stewart glared at him.

“I used false names.”

“Yeah,” said Stewart, “but I don’t think it’d take a genius to crack the code. Bella and Collinson?”

Annabelle folded her arms. “It’s a little low, even for you.” They both looked at her, and she stepped back. “I mean, well – we did agree that it would be our little secret.”

“Yes, but my editor was complaining about falling sales, which I’m sure can’t be true. Eighteen languages and sixty million copies sold worldwide are hardly things any publisher should gripe at. The _Times_ called Mark Caine the most inexplicably popular book series of the Twentieth Century only last month! But she talked a lot about sexing up the narrative and the modern zeitgeist and it seemed such a shame not to use it. Besides, since none of us remember much about it, it’s not as if I kissed and told.”

Jason gave them a hopeful smile.

“It’s very, uh –” said Stewart, and adjusted his tie again.

Annabelle glanced again at the book. “It certainly is.”

“So, you don’t remember it, either?” said Stewart. “You just made all this up? I thought maybe you did and I was going to have to ask you to file a more thorough report. Your details are, uh, pretty convincing.”

“My dear Stewart, if they weren’t, Mark Caine would hardly be the global phenomenon that he is. I possess a fertile mind.”

“So I see,” said Annabelle.

Jason put a hand to his head and fell weakly into the nearest chair. “All I recall after that fatal glass of wine is things getting rather fuzzy and then Annabelle started it, launching herself at you –”

Annabelle said, “That’s not how _I_ remember it.”

“I recollect thinking I didn’t see why I should be left out and after that, I am, most regretfully or mercifully as the case may be, a blank.”

Annabelle glanced at Stewart.

“It’s no good looking at me. You know I barely remember anything at all after we got in the room. Not until afterwards –” He paled slightly.

Annabelle patted his arm. “Yes, sorry. I was forgetting it was worse for you. Poor Stewart.”

“Nasty after-effects,” said Jason. “I’m so glad that wasn’t me.”

Stewart gave him a hard stare. “Oh? So it _was_ worse than your little problem, was it? That’s not what you said at the time.”

Jason froze. “That,” he said, in icy tones, “is, thank God, a thing of the past and entirely erased from my memory, thank you, Stewart.”

“What little problem?” said Annabelle, hunting around on her desk for a notebook. “Jason. You knew I was collating all the different side-effects. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“ _Stewart._ ”

“Oh,” said Annabelle. She laughed. “Oh, _Jason_. Not really?”

Jason glared. “We shall never speak of it again. Never!”

“Exactly,” said Stewart. “That’s what we all agreed, and this is right over the line, Jason.”

Jason waved a hand. “Oh?” he said. “Has anyone been harmed? None of my readers will dream such outlandish events could be based on truth. It’s not even as if I could let slip real details since none of us are in possession of them. And I don’t see what you two are complaining about. If I were you, I’d be flattered.”

Annabelle and Stewart exchanged a look, but before they could speak, Sir Curtis walked in.

“Ah, you are all here. Good,” he said. “Any progress with the case, Sullivan?”

“Not much,” said Stewart. “My headache’s finally gone, Auntie’s given Annabelle one, and we’re no further forward – unless Jason has any news?”

“Only that Lady Palmer is the most tedious woman alive,” Jason said. “After three days of her company, I am none the wiser about her current husband’s nefarious activities, nor his whereabouts, but I shall heroically persevere, never fear.”

“Shame,” said Curtis, and then his eye fell on the new Mark Caine novel in Stewart’s hands. “The latest instalment, I presume? I must reserve my copy.”

Annabelle rounded on Jason, as soon as Sir Curtis had left them to carry on with their work. “No harm done? Jason!”

“Don’t worry,” said Jason, and gave them his most winning smile. “Sir Curtis knows what a lurid imagination I have. It is what he pays me for, after all.”


End file.
